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Create or Die

I can feel it inside of my bones–like a disease, a sickness, a monster furiously clawing it’s way to the surface. I want to scream and break everything around me then make a dress out of the pieces. Artistic inspiration boiling over in my blood; if I do not create, I will surely die. The desire is overwhelming–it’s eating at me, gnawing, chewing at me–a nagging sensation that never ceases, an addiction that rules my life, consumes my every waking thought. Creativity seeps into everything I say, the way I move, and how I see the world. Swirling vortexes of rainbow patterns constantly dance in front of my eyes. I’m blinded by it. The world around me becomes a blur of vibrant colors that are each screaming at me to grab hold and create with. I see patterns, prints, and designs in everything. Reality slips further and further from my grasp and my eyes glaze over in a creative fog so dense that nothing can escape it–a vast chasm, an endless pit, an abyss. I feel as though I will explode if I do not make something. The instant I fail to get the creativity out of me, I will be swallowed whole by the beast inside of me. Torn into pieces from the inside out–create or die my instincts tell me.

The life of an artist. No wonder people describe us as tortured souls. Anytime you see us not creating, our insides are on fire with the insatiable desire to be creating. There is a creature inside of us fighting to get out, to escape and wreak havoc on the emotions of strangers. We must make them all feel. Experience even just a shred of the intense emotion that we carry, so that we no longer have to hold it all. There’s enough there to drive anyone insane, and we all are…